


Is It Well to Wish Thee Happy

by ofsevenseas



Series: Is It Well to Wish Thee Happy [1]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spy, Canon Het Relationship, Femslash if you squint, Gen, Happily Ever After, Minor fight scene, Mystery Crossover!, shameless fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofsevenseas/pseuds/ofsevenseas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is in Budapest when she gets the call.</p><p>She smiles apologetically at her partner Kate, mouths ‘family’ at her, and closes the bathroom door so she can focus on Lizzie’s voice through the static interference of low-hanging storm clouds.</p><p>She’s not sure how she makes it through post-op - a month later she finds half a comms set and a silencer tangled up in her green wool scarf - but Jane drives up to her childhood home Sunday morning, summons her best smile, and opens the door.</p><p>// The AU where Jane is a secret government agent. Technically series AU, but diverges significantly from canon as of ep. 84.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It Well to Wish Thee Happy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic owes so much to tumblr users glamaphonic's and courtneymilan's thoughtful analyses/discussions of LBD, as well as the LBD seahorses in general.
> 
> Also thanks goes to treaclemineroad for beta duty, audiencing, and handholding. Stacy, sorry about shrieking into your tumblr inbox all the time, I promise I'm done. For this one, anyway.
> 
> Funnily enough, it was going to be a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU, but then somehow evolved into Girls Fix ALL THE THINGS, which we do need more of. xD

Jane is in Budapest when she gets the call.

She smiles apologetically at her partner Kate, mouths ‘family’ at her, and closes the bathroom door so she can focus on Lizzie’s voice through the static interference of low-hanging storm clouds.

She’s not sure how she makes it through post-op - a month later she finds half a comms set and a silencer tangled up in her green wool scarf - but Jane drives up to her childhood home Sunday morning, summons her best smile, and opens the door.

-

It’s both better and worse than she expected. Lydia’s in her room, not talking to anyone, and Lizzie is raw with grief and guilt, so Jane has the time to slip her equipment in the house and do a spot of cyber tracking. In between catching up on their videos, she makes tea for Lizzie and leaves a tray at Lydia’s door.

Her mom is fluttering around, happy that her girls are back home again, and still intrusively asking about boyfriends – Wickham in general seems to be her favorite topic. Lydia isn’t in the room the first or second time she does it, though Jane doesn’t know how on earth her parents are still in the dark when she can see Lizzie bodily flinching whenever he’s mentioned.

After supper, she knocks on the door to her mom’s new meditation room, and mentally girds herself at the cheerful, ‘Just open the door, sweetpea!’

Her mother is sitting on the ground, and she pats one of the cushions next to her. “Janey! Now, what has you looking so sad this time? You come here and tell mama all about it.”

She sits down gingerly, “Oh, mom. How did you know?”

“Moonpie,” Mrs. Bennet says, sternly, and Jane tries to adjust herself on the rounded meditation cushion without telegraphing her discomfort. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Lydia shutting herself up in her room all day, and then my Lizzie coming home, her feathers all ruffled! And you’ve never looked so worried in your life, Jane dear.”

Jane looks into her mother’s green eyes, the ones she passed on to all her daughters, and remembers that under all her bluster and fuss, her mother has always had their best interests at heart and watched out for them. “Well, it’s a little difficult to begin.” She says, ducking her head and studying the recently waxed floor.

“It’s not really my story.” Jane hears her mother take a long breath and let it out. She looks up in time to see her mother’s eyes fill with apprehension.

“I was afraid of that. What’s happened to your sisters, Jane?”

Subconsciously, Jane’s hands find the hem of her shirt and twist it around her fingers, worrying the fabric as she talks. “It’s complicated, mom. And I don’t have the whole story, but I thought you should know.”

Mrs. Bennet studies her face for a moment, and then sighs again. “Did you and Lizzie have a fight, darling?”

Jane can feel her eyes widening. “Oh, um, you know how stubborn she is, mom –“ she stutters. She came close to her first real fight with Lizzie this morning, in fact, but it’s not important right now.

“Jane, of course I do. She and Lydia are like two peas in a pod, especially when they decide to be bullheaded. Now, what were you saying?”

“It’s Wickham. He used Lydia, mom. He manipulated her into a relationship, a really unhealthy one.” Jane tucks an errant strand of hair behind her right ear, a nervous gesture left over from her teenage years. She takes a deep breath and continues. “He made a sex tape of them. And he’s going to sell it to anyone who wants a copy, on the internet.”

Her mother’s eyes brim over with tears, and she has to cover her mouth with both hands to keep from crying.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do.” Jane continues. She can feel her own eyes prickling, but she wills the tears down. She can do this.

“I suppose you can’t have him killed, can you?”

“Mom!” Mrs. Bennet’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and her mouth lifts a little.

“Well, sweetpea,” she admits sheepishly, “It was worth a try. Besides, what is the use of you being in intelligence if I even can’t ask for a small assassination?”

Jane can feel every nerve in her body coming alive with tension. She sits bolt upright.

“Bless your heart, Janey.” Mrs. Bennet looks amused, and though the line of her smile quivers, it is genuine.

“Oh.” Jane thinks back to her mother’s obsession about marriage, and wonders if she was trying, in her way, to keep Jane at home and safe. “Mom, when did you find out?” She sees her mother purse her mouth closed, a thoughtful frown on her face. 

“Mom, please? This is important.”

“If you must know, I saw some of your notes on negotiation techniques while I was cleaning your room. They were on notepaper with that funny eagle logo? And when I called you at work, nobody sounded like they could tell the difference between a bias cut and a straight one! I wouldn’t have told anybody, honey, I promise.” 

“Yeah, my supervisors wouldn’t have liked that too much.” Jane jokes weakly. Something occurs to her – “Mom! My negotiation module was over two years ago!”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you say anything before then?”

Mrs. Bennet looks down at Jane’s hands, and takes them into her own. “Jane, dear. You take after your father.” And Jane understands what she wants to say, that she is the steady sister, the responsible daughter who never put a foot wrong, that her mother would trust her with her choices, even if it meant putting herself in danger. That there’s nothing more her mother could say, really.

Looking at her mother, seeing in her face Lizzie’s stubborn jawline and Lydia’s delicate nose, Jane thinks about what family means to her, and makes a choice.

-

There is a quiet sense of fury burning through her veins at night, enough that she can’t go to sleep. None of Wickham’s cards are showing activity, and Jane assumes that he knows enough about this sort of thing to go to ground at the first opportunity.

That means it’s going to be fieldwork.

-

The next morning she calls work and asks for two weeks off. Her partner is silent, and Jane can almost hear Kate over the phone line, weighing whether or not to interfere further. She finally decides on a quiet “Take care of yourself, Red”, and Jane wishes she could be sorry, for risking her career and potentially making Kate partnerless again, but she is not ever going to be sorry for protecting her family.

She packs only the essentials and walks quietly down the stairs. Midway, she bumps into Lizzie, going back up to check on Lydia.

Lizzie’s still mad at her, Jane can tell, but she gives her a wan smile and moves to go past her. Jane puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Lizzie whispers, composure breaking almost right away.

Jane’s heart aches for what Lizzie is doing to herself, for what Lydia is doing to herself, what Wickham did to Lydia, and by extension her family. She lets the feeling well up inside, and locks it in place. She smiles at Lizzie, aware that it feels wrong on her face, and hugs her tight.

“It’s going to be okay. I promise. Take care of Lydia, okay? She loves you.” Jane feels Lizzie tuck her face into her shoulder, the same way she used to when she cried but didn’t want to let anyone else to see. “I need to take care of some stuff.”

Lizzie unwraps herself from Jane’s embrace, wiping at her face ineffectually. “Oh god, it’s work, isn’t it? Are you in trouble with your boss?”

Jane smiles, “No, it’s just a little thing. I’ll be back before you even know it.” On impulse, she leans forward and kisses Lizzie on the forehead.

“Oookay then,” Lizzie has a quizzical look on her face again, and gestures towards Lydia’s closed door. Jane thinks that Lydia would say she looks like a stork having a seizure, but charmingly. “When you’re in L.A., remember to get some good chocolate for our emergency stores, please? We’re running low.”

-

Jane’s first impression, upon pulling into the Pemberly Digital parking lot, is that everyone is unusually happy to be at work.

“Hi!” Jane says brightly to the receptionist, who beams back with disturbingly good cheer given a 9am on Monday.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” He asks, right hand hovering over his phone, ready to leap into action, Jane imagines, at the first request.

“Actually, this is a little embarrassing,” Jane trails off, bashfully tucking a non-existent strand of hair into her perfect milkmaid braid.

“Yes?” The receptionist, whose name tag says ‘Brian’, looks at her encouragingly.

Jane smiles again, dimpling at him, “I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was wondering if I could have a word with Ms. Darcy? It’s not really work-related, but – my sister was here, shadowing Pemberley Digital for her graduate thesis, and she left something really important here. I think Ms. Darcy might be keeping it for her?”

Slipping back into the fieldwork mindset is rather easier than Jane had anticipated, and she catches herself glancing around the wide, airy entrance for exit points and potential threats.

Brian’s eyes widen slightly, and he says in a somewhat choked voice, “May I have your name, please, so security can give you a badge?”

As Jane is chatting with the nice people at security – she wonders idly if William Darcy put something into the water – she hears Brian scrambling for his phone and hissing “Anne! Anne! Her _sister_ is here!” into his headset.

Jane hopes that Lizzie didn’t manage to turn Pemberley inside out or enact her usual brand of chaos, but it’s a little too late to ask Brian now, so she heads to the fifth floor offices, forming and discarding what she’s going to say to Gigi Darcy.

-

Gigi Darcy reminds Jane of Lydia – old Lydia – so much that for a moment she is winded, and has to sit down on the leather couch and put herself back together.

Gigi hovers, hands flailing everywhere and soft-voiced, until Jane gets her bearings again.

“I’m so sorry,” Jane tries to say, but Gigi steamrollers right over her.

“Oh my god! No, don’t worry about it! How are you guys? Is Lydia okay? Do you want tea? What can I do to help? I mean, William won’t let me do anything, because he thinks I’m some delicate blossom that’ll wither in the wind or something, but seriously, say a word and I am _so there_.”

Jane can see how Lizzie, stubborn as a mule Lizzie, was coerced into going along with Gigi’s plans.

“Right, sorry, let me get you something to drink, I’ll be right back!”

In her absence, Jane takes a look around the well-appointed office, with its view of the gardens, and thinks that Lizzie would love to work here. The furniture and décor are a little conservative, it’s true, but Jane thinks she saw sleep pods and a swimming pool on the blueprints in the security booth. Clearly William Darcy had a hand in designing his sister’s office.

There is a tennis bag slung over one of the couches in the corner, and a few brightly colored plastic ponies stuck in the soil of the thriving palm plant. Nearer to the wall, neon feather-topped pens are scattered haphazardly on the large, imposing desk. Jane likes her already.

Gigi Darcy bursts back into the room, two enormous mugs in hand, almost as if she is afraid Jane had vanished while she was gone.

“Oh hey, sorry about the wait! I, uh, heard you like tea! So I got us both some earl grey, and let me just – ”

Jane jumps up to take the mugs from her hands, and Gigi giggles a little as she hefts the tennis bag into her vacant desk chair. They both settle down, steaming tea vapor floating between them.

“Thanks. Can I call you Jane?”

Her obvious enthusiasm makes Jane smile and nod before she even realizes. “Of course.”

Gigi’s face lights up, and then falls again just as quickly, “I think I can guess why you’re here.”

Jane nods, trying to formulate her request in a way that won’t hurt Gigi.

“I went back and watched all the Pemberley videos.”

Gigi doesn’t say anything, just stares down at her mug of tea, hiding her expression as she nods.

“I wish there was a better way to ask you this,” Jane begins, “but – I’m looking for him. And I need more information.”

“Will you – ”

Gigi continues for her, with a fierceness that surprises Jane. “Will I help?”

“Gigi, you don’t have to do this,” Gigi says, mimicking her brother’s intonation. “He hurt you so badly, I don’t want to see you like that again.” She scoffs. “I’m over him. I’m over _Wickham_. I can tell you everything I know about him, and if you let me I will even come with you and personally track him down and hang him out to dry. _Let me do this_ , Jane. _Please_.”

Jane sets her tea down gently on the mahogany coffee table. “I know you’re really frustrated, Gigi. And I appreciate that you want to help, but are you sure?” Jane can’t in good conscience casually involve Gigi in what is essentially vigilante justice, but confinement at Pemberley is not fair to Gigi, and Jane knows it.

Gigi bites her lips and sighs. “I keep telling William that I’m an adult, and I can make my own choices, but I guess you’re both know-it-all big sibs. Will you at least listen to me before taking off for Orange County?”

“I-” Jane pauses, “Lydia is my baby sister. And I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything. I think it’s only fair that you know what you’re getting yourself into. So I’m asking again, Gigi Darcy. Are you sure you want to help me?”

She knows more than a little bit of Agent Bennet and not enough of Jane went into that last sentence, but Gigi’s smart, and if she does come along, she’ll figure enough out. She keeps her eyes on Gigi’s face.

Gigi tilts her head consideringly, and then grins, a secret curl of her lips that has probably already broken some hearts. “I thought you’d never ask, Jane Bennet.”

-

“Okay, so, I know you’re all about the tracking him down and wreaking a terrible vengeance upon him, but really the first thing to do in cases like these is lawyer smash.” Gigi wrinkles her nose a little at the phrase, like she disapproves but feels compelled to bring it up.

Jane is at sea. “Lawyer smash?”

This time, Gigi’s grin is all tooth, canines on prominent display. “It’s what William calls ‘misuse of legal resources’. Basically we hit him with everything we have, lawyers, C&Ds, our forensic computer people, the mergers and acquisition department, and maybe even the Department of Justice if we’re really serious. One of William’s godfathers is a California Supreme Court judge, I’m sure he’d help us out with warrants if we need it.”

“And that will stop him from releasing the video?” Jane wishes her training had included this, so she can stop feeling outplayed all the time.

“No. Well, yes and no. It’ll stall things long enough that he’ll have to make contact in person, and _that_ , dear Watson, is when we pounce.”

A tentative knock on the door interrupts their brainstorming session, and Jane can almost see the wheels turning in Gigi’s head. It’s going to be a blessing and a curse, Jane thinks, that her face is so open for everyone to read, but she is dealing with this much better than her brother is. At least in Jane’s opinion.

The door opens on yet another beaming Pemberley employee, who walks in waving a USB key. “Hey, Gigi, you said to install Domino when we got ready to beta-test it, so here I am!”

Gigi jumps up and claps her hands together, “Yes, finally! It is mine!”

“Remember, Gigi, with great power- ” “- Comes great responsibility.” Gigi finishes with her. “I know, I know, I’ll hand the reports in on time and everything. Don’t worry!”

The woman glances curiously at Jane, and Gigi flushes. “Right! Where are my manners, seriously. Anne Elliot, this is Jane Bennet, Lizzie’s big sister. Jane, Anne’s one of our top programmers in R&D, and she’s just brought me Pemberley’s new baby!” Gigi bounces on the balls of her feet, hands clasped together in childish delight. “It’s called Domino, and it can do everything!”

Jane stands and holds her hand out to Anne, who shakes it with great enthusiasm, smiling widely at her.

Pemberley Digital is definitely putting something in the water, Jane decides, and excuses herself while Anne is installing Domino on Gigi’s computer.

-

Jane counts seven dial tones before Lydia picks up.

“Hey Jane.” And she sounds tired, even over the phone.

“Hey Lydia, did I wake you up?” Jane runs a hand over the bulletin board in the currently unoccupied office, and wishes she hadn’t given in to the cowardly urge to run away from home. Lydia lets the pause drag, before sighing into her phone.

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything anyway.” Jane can hear mouse clicks and a keyboard, but she forges ahead.

“I know we talked when I got home, but I wanted to ask you something.” Jane admits to herself that she shouldn’t put this off any further, but it’s not easy, especially when she doesn’t have Lydia in front of her.

Lydia’s voice is a barely audible hitch of breath in Jane’s ear. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been talking to Gigi Darcy, about how to shut everything down. She has some really great ideas.” Jane closes her eyes and hopes with every cell in her body that she can avoid hurting Lydia even more. “She said something – I’m so sorry, I didn’t ask what you wanted. I just left, and I was wrong. I should have talked to you first.”

“Lydia?” Jane can’t hear anything for a moment, “Lydia, honey, what’s wrong? Are you crying? Hey, it’s going to be okay, I promise, I will fix this and he will never threaten you again- ”

“But you can’t fix it, Jane, I’m not like you, I don’t get a happy ending and a beautiful sunset. Sluts deserve everything they get! Right?” Lydia half-snarls, half sobs into the phone; and Jane switches to speakerphone, tapping out a quick text to Lizzie.

_Lydia thinks it’s her fault. Talk to her._

“No. Lydia, you’re not a slut, and it’s not your fault. You know better than I do, how this feels, but we’re going to get through this. I love you, and you are never going to be anything less than amazing to me, Lydia, please. Tell me what you want, to make this go away.”

Lizzie texts back. _She hates my guts. And I don’t blame her._

_Blame Wickham. Tell her she’s it’s not her fault._

Lydia hangs up on her. Jane leans against the wall and tries not to cry.

_What good will it do?_

_Lydia listens to you. Watch her videos. Listen back._

-

“Hey, I thought you should know, Lizzie just posted – Oh my god Jane.” Gigi crouches down next to her, a warm hand smoothing its way across her shoulder blades and back. 

“No, no, I’m fine, just give me a moment.” Jane tries to wave her off, but Gigi closes the door again and stays crouched next to her.

“I guess Lydia’s taking it hard.” Jane tries not to picture Lydia curled up on her bed, hating herself with no respite from her thoughts. “You know, my therapist mentioned this really early in my sessions, and I still have trouble with it.” Gigi settles down next to Jane, back to the wall.

“You know it’s not Lydia’s fault that Wickham is an emotionally abusive jerk, right?” The question has an obvious answer, and Gigi chuckles drily before continuing. “Okay, I get your point. But I meant, it’s not on her to know what kind of person Wickham is, and it’s not on her to not fall his pretty face. It’s not ever her fault for making the mistake of thinking he loved her, because that’s what manipulators _do_. Lizzie said something about ‘smart girls and dumb things’, right?”

Honestly, right at this moment, Jane cannot remember, or bring herself to care, but she thinks she can see where Gigi’s going with this. And it’s not really Jane she should be talking to.

“It’s very hard to get Lizzie to change her mind about something.” Gigi makes a face in acknowledgement.

“I noticed, yes.”

“Once she makes up her mind, she puts all her energy into it.”

“Like hating my brother?”

Jane looks sideways at Gigi’s face, unsure if she’s joking. “That. And bringing up safe sex in the middle of bars with Lydia, and driving half our high school crazy with in-depth analyses of problematic reading materials.”

Gigi smiles back at her. “And running off in the middle of her graduate thesis so she can take care of her sister?”

It’s true. “And that.” Jane says steadily.

“Come on, I think we should watch this new video of hers.” Gigi offers her a hand up, and Jane takes it gratefully.

-

It’s adorable, Jane thinks, that Gigi has followed Lizzie’s Youtube channel, Twitter, and Tumblr accounts. Lizzie doesn’t even use half of them beyond announcing when she posts a video, but Gigi’s very thorough in tracking her sister’s internet footprint.

Lizzie’s sitting in their den, looking straight into the camera. “Hey guys,” she offers feebly. “It’s been an … eventful weekend, let’s put it that way. I know some of you – well, let’s be honest, all of you are really curious about what’s going on, and – my name is Lizzie Bennet, and this isn’t good. At all.”

“… Remember Darvid and Batman? Well, as it turns out, Batman’s more of a Joker, and my analogy is running away from me, so I’m just going to put it out there – he’s bad news. Lydia’s trying to deal with it, and guys, if any of you are linked to that site, or know people who are interested, please, please just stay away. I’m begging you, he violated my sister’s trust in him and did this, and if you have any idea, please just step away. _Don’t_ give him money for this, okay?”

“And no, we’re still not talking. I’m camped out here in the den because, well, my mom decided that she wanted a meditation room, but also because I might see Lydia if – hi Jane!” Jane watches herself sit down with a sense of dread. Instead of posting Lydia’s breakdown, Lizzie has opted to keep this in.

“Hey Lizzie! I brought you some tea.” Lizzie smiles at Jane-in-the-camera, and Jane doesn’t realize she’s gotten up until Gigi tugs at her arm firmly. _You should stay_ , Gigi mouths at her.

Jane steels herself to sit through their argument.

It’s even worse, the second time around, watching Lizzie rant and herself become quieter and quieter until she loses it. Snaps at Lizzie because _yes_ , mom is frustrating, and _yes_ , she’s tone-deaf when it comes to people, but her heart’s in the right place, and she’s never made Lydia feel bad about herself because she liked having fun. Watching Lizzie’s face lose colour like she was slapped is still terrible, and hearing Lizzie accuse her of always running away from her problems still rings in her ears. What’s worse, Jane knows she’s right, because Lizzie, when she isn’t biased, is uncannily insightful about other people.

But the video doesn’t end there. Lizzie walks out of the frame, and then comes back. The light in the den’s changed, and Lizzie’s face looks about ten years older.

“Jane’s right.” Lizzie says. “I did it. I let Wickham walk into our lives and take Lydia apart. I’m sorry, for whatever it’s worth, but it’s not much, is it?” She looks up at the sound of footsteps, and then the screen goes blank.

Gigi hums to herself. “I’ll be right back. You should make a list of everything we need. And, Jane?” She turns her head towards Gigi’s voice, without really seeing her. “Like I said. None of you are to blame.”

-

They drive around from beach to beach, combing the hotels, bars, and clubs that Gigi remembers from her time with Wickham. Every night Jane checks the website and is grateful that it remains dark. Even if it means they’re no closer to tracking Wickham, at least the video release isn’t hanging over their heads like a sword. Gigi responds to her questions with a flippant, “I think it’s something to do with copyright laws?” and continues making threats to the man behind Novelty Xposures over the phone. In between drives and people, Gigi shows her the Domino application demos on Pemberley’s channel, excited and proud in equal measures.

She takes to their self-imposed mission with a glee that would be disturbing, but Jane recognizes it from Kate, and wonders if Gigi might also like an alternative career path. Then she tells herself to focus, and continues charming answers out of Wickham’s old acquaintances.

They cross the borders of Orange County on Thursday morning, and Jane imposes a mandatory half-day of rest. She remembers from training that one of the most common mistakes to make in the field is burning all your energy before you need it, and she doesn’t intend to let Wickham get away because she didn’t listen to her own body.

Gigi chafes at being told to stand down, but Jane explains that they both need a rest, and she flounces into the shower without another word.

When she hears the water start, Jane pulls out her cell phone and dials William Darcy’s number.

“Hello?” He sounds exhausted but proper as always, over-enunciating his words.

“Hi, William Darcy? This is Jane Bennet.”

“Oh. Hello.” Jane waits for him to continue, but he has temporarily lost the ability for speech.

“I’m not calling you to talk about Bing, Darcy.” So you can relax, she wants to say, but Jane bites her tongue. “I’m in Orange County with Gigi, and we’re about to meet with Susan Young.”

“Is that so.” Darcy says slowly, like he’s trying to taste the words before they leave his mouth. “And you said Gigi is with you?”

“Yes, she’s in the shower right now. We’ve just spent three days searching most of southern California.”

“I cannot say that I approve of your actions. Did you not think it appropriate to consult a member of Gigi’s own family before involving her?”

After three days on the road, Jane’s capacity for bullheadedness is at an end. She sighs audibly for Darcy to hear. “I’m not going to get between you and your sister, but regardless of your own feelings, surely you realize Gigi’s old enough to make her own decisions?” Jane continues, “I fully understand that you are reluctant to hurt her again, but at some point you will have to let her stand on her own two feet again, and I think she’s an intelligent, resourceful woman who has been invaluable for the past few days. Don’t underestimate her because she’s your baby sister, William Darcy.”

Lying down on her standard hotel bed, Jane realizes how tired she is, that she has begun subconsciously emulating Darcy’s speech patterns.

“Very well. I will discuss this at a later date with Gigi. How did you find Susan Young?”

Jane feels her lips twist into a smile. “Does it really matter?”

“I suppose not. I assume that by calling me, you wish for my presence at this meeting?”

Jane rattles off the address of the café and time they’ve arranged to meet. Darcy’s end is silent, no doubt writing it all down with painstaking attention. “Thank you, Jane,” he says finally, “I appreciate this.”

She smiles over the phone. “Gigi’s your sister. And I appreciate you helping us in the first place.”

“Please understand,” he says in a hurry, “I am not doing this in order to pressure Lizzie into a sense of obligation towards me.”

“I know. I know exactly what kind of person you are.” Jane says.

“I’m sorry. I very much regret my actions.” Darcy sounds like he is about to say more, but the shower shuts off, so Jane interrupts him. “I would blame Bing before blaming you, Darcy. And it’s water under the bridge now. Get some rest, we’ll see you this afternoon.”

-

Gigi takes the news of William joining them quite well, though she does spend a moment in the bathroom after coffee with Susan, in order to compose herself. Under the combined weight of the Darcy name and Jane’s not inconsiderable interrogation skills, she tells them everything – Wickham’s current location, what times he could be found at home, and his backup apartment in L.A.

“So,” Darcy begins awkwardly, “We have his address.”

Jane nods, picking her bocconcini sandwich apart absentmindedly. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning, when he gets home. You have all the paperwork?”

Darcy nods, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

Gigi bounces out of the bathroom, making a beeline for their table. “We should celebrate!” Darcy frowns up at her. “I think we are overdue for a conversation, Gigi.”

She pouts at him, and then relents. “Fine, but we’re getting takeout before going back to the hotel.” Darcy nods, and then looks over at Jane. “I believe there is a suite available at my current hotel. I’d like it if we stayed together.”

-

After supper, Darcy shepherds Gigi into his room with an apologetic look and then firmly shuts the door. Jane smiles to herself, deciding to make an early night of it. She would feel guilty about such opulent surroundings, but to be frank, she is exhausted after days of nonstop ground searches, and if she gets to enjoy a massage showerhead and a night view of Newport beach, then so much the better.

Once she’s firmly nestled in the fluffiest bed imaginable, Jane takes out her phone to check for messages. There’s a text from Charlotte telling her to watch Lizzie’s Thursday video, with two exclamation marks, so Jane taps on the link right away. She notices that it’s 8 minutes long, and then Lizzie is speaking, voice tinny through her earbuds.

“I told my dad. Jane’s been called away to work, so it’s only me rattling around this house, and it all just came out. The good thing is that the site is down for now, but my dad’s PI friend hasn’t been able to find anything out yet. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you guys for the support. Seriously, you are all amazing. But it’s still out there, you know?” Lizzie looks straight into the camera, face solemn.

“My name is Lizzie Bennet, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Jane blinks tears from her eyes. Lizzie is still deeply shaken; she looks like she hasn’t eaten in the time Jane’s been away, and she hasn’t bothered putting on makeup or changing out of her pajamas for the video.

“Lydia still won’t leave her room. I’m not sure how long I can keep this up, and I know I had that fight with Jane about telling mom, but I can’t do it. I just can’t. Lydia’s always been her baby girl, and it will break her heart. She took Lydia out on a shopping trip yesterday, but they didn’t come back with anything, and ever since then she’s been hovering around Lydia’s room, but I don’t know, I wish I could help.

“Charlotte’s trying the best she can, but she says she hasn’t been able to pin down the people behind the website. And buying the video back will take money that we don’t have, especially if they know how desperate we are to keep it off the internet. And what if Wickham decides to sell a copy to someone else?

“God, I wish I could find him and just wring his – okay. Plausible deniability, right?

Lizzie sighs and looks off camera, and then stands up so quickly she’s a blur on the camera. “Mom! Hi, mom! Uh, I was just – ”

“Lizzie dear, I think we can stop pretending now, can’t we?” Mrs. Bennet moves into frame, then sits down next to Lizzie, and smiles into the camera.

“I understand you put these videos on the internet, Lizzie?” Lizzie sits down slowly, jaw still slack with surprise. “Sweetpea, you’ll catch flies like that! Better close your mouth and tell me what you know about this Wickham character. He sounds like a slippery one, and your sister won’t talk about him at all.”

“Uh, mom, how-? I mean, did Lydia tell you?” Mrs. Bennet laughs a little, patting Lizzie’s hands together. “Oh, no, dearest. Jane did.” Lizzie starts, and shifts guiltily, “Lizzie, honey, will you stop fidgeting! I’m not going to get into all that today, but we are going to have a good talk one of these days. So tell me, what are we going to do about this scoundrel?”

Jane smiles a little at Lizzie’s alarmed expression. She recovers quickly, and begins talking at a mile a minute, Mrs. Bennet following closely and nodding. Every once in a while she stops Lizzie to ask after some detail, and the two of them sometimes talk over each other, reaching the same conclusion simultaneously. Jane wonders if Lizzie chose this video on purpose, to prove to Jane that she’s not as close-minded as Jane had accused her to be, and feels a new wave of affection for her family.

Finally, Lizzie falls silent, and stares at the camera before turning back to her mother. She twists her fingers together nervously, and finally settles to grasp both of Mrs. Bennet’s hands. “Mom,” she begins, letting go of one hand to tuck her hair behind one ear. “I’m really sorry. Jane was right, you deserved to know.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes shine briefly with pride and happiness, and then her composure crumples again, “Oh, my Lizzie,” she says, and engulfs her in a hug. Jane’s eyes water until all she can see is the dark red of their hair mingling together.

Jane takes a quick break to get some tissues from the bathroom, and only looks down when she hears Lydia’s voice.

“Mom, can I talk to you?”

Jane knows, even without looking, that Lizzie has stiffened, and that her mother’s arm around Lizzie’s shoulders is the only thing keeping her from falling off the couch in shock. Mrs. Bennet holds an arm out to the hallway, “Come here, dearest.” She waits until Lydia has approached them before getting up and switching places with Lydia. “Your sister and I just finished talking. I’m going to make your favorite pie for supper. Be good, girls.”

Lizzie makes an aborted gesture in Lydia’s general direction, but apparently thinks better of it, and says, tentatively, “I can turn off the camera, if you want?”

Lydia turns her head from where she’s been staring at the camera, and shakes it. Two spots of color appear on her cheeks, and she resumes the staring, but with a purpose in her eyes this time.

“I just wanted to say, Wickham, if you’re watching this, you are going down. You tried to use me, but you’re going to fail, and I’m going to watch you fail, every step of the way.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

Jane sits down on the edge of the bathtub, one hand braced against the wall.

“I – ” Lizzie clears her throat. “It might be too late, but I wanted to say sorry.”

Lydia trembles for a moment, and then stills herself, hands white-knuckled around her elbows. “It’s okay, Lizzie, you were right. The stupid whore-y slut had it coming.”

Lizzie looks to the camera desperately, as if for guidance, “I shouldn’t have said that about you. Wickham, what he did – it had nothing to do with being a slut.”

Lydia’s lips thin, and what little color left in her face drains away. “So you _do_ think I’m a slut.”

Lizzie, for the second time that day, is left speechless. Lydia buries her face in her hands, and then unfolds slowly off the settee. She walks away without another word to Lizzie, or looking at the camera, head held high and shoulders defensive. “No wait! Lydia, wait!”

She runs after Lydia and disappears.

Jane stares at the blank screen for a very long time, trying to catch her breath. She can’t decide which of her sisters she should call. The image of Lydia walking out of the room, barely holding herself together, decides it.

-

“Hey, this is the adorbs, the amazing, Ly-dee-yah! You know what to do, unless you’re my lame sister Lizzie, whaaaat.” Jane sighs at the third voicemail message in a row and walks out to the balcony.

Jane closes her eyes and takes deep breaths until she approximates her meditative calm. This close to the ocean, she can pick up the salty tang of the water, and the February wind is chilly against her skin. Jane admits that she can’t stay out here forever, but she taps Lizzie’s speed dial.

“I guess you saw, huh?” Is the first thing Lizzie says when she picks up.

“How are you, Lizzie?” Jane realizes that this is the first time she’s asked Lizzie that, since coming home, and a part of her is sorry all over again.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Lydia that?” Jane closes the balcony door and slips back into her bed, leaving the bedside lamp on.

“Well, I’m talking to you right now, Lizzie. How do you feel?”

There is a mutinous silence from the other end of the phone. “I kind of want you here to tell me how to make things better.”

Jane shifts against the pillows, “If you could say anything to Lydia right now, what would you say?”

“Oh my god,” Lizzie exhales in a quick burst, “You have to know that the slut thing was a mistake, a bad joke, and not even particularly funny. I love her. Jane, she drives me crazy and doesn’t listen to me because she thinks I’m lame and I only have lame ideas, but I would never, in a million years, think she deserved this. All those times with the contraceptives, I was just trying to tease her. I want her to be safe when she has sex. It doesn’t matter to me how many people she sleeps with, or with whom, as long as she’s protecting herself.”

“Well, that sounds pretty good to be starting with.” Jane says.

“You think?” Lizzie sounds very dubious. “You know how she gets when I talk about being responsible.”

“Oh, Lizzie. She’s always listened to you.”

“It’s news to me. Seriously, she’s always going on about how I’m a loser, I didn’t think she even cared about my opinions.”

Jane stares at the ceiling, “You should stop telling me this when you really want to be talking to Lydia, Lizzie.”

“I know.” Lizzie’s head thumps hollowly against something. Jane sits up in her bed. “Are you okay? That sounds like it hurt.”

“God, what is your damage, Lizzie,” Jane hears, “Sitting against my door is creeper-level behavior. Gimme the phone.”

“Hey Jane!” Lydia chirps over the phone. “I’m claiming this loser for the greater good, okay?”

“Sure. Do you want me on speakerphone?” Jane asks through a smile so wide her cheeks hurt.

“Only if you promise not to snore.”

-

Jane wakes up to someone sitting on her chest and a knife against her throat.

In the murky pre-dawn darkness, Jane can barely make out a shape, but she thinks it’s a woman by the long sweep of hair down one shoulder. She swallows, and feels the cold blade against her skin, perfectly positioned to lay open her neck with one quick stroke.

“You really should lock the balcony door behind you.”

Jane tries to sit up, but Caroline pushes her back down with both hands and elbows. “I didn’t say you could get up.” Instead of the knife, Jane can feel Caroline’s arm, strong and warm against her neck.

“I’m very confused. What are you doing here?” Jane hopes she can keep Caroline distracted long enough to get the gun under her pillows.

“Gigi called me and asked for my help. I have to say, you’re really good at this.”

“Really good at what?” Jane says, even as she’s using her hips to throw Caroline’s weight off herself, rolling off the bed and coming up, both feet steady and the gun aimed at Caroline’s head.

She has to duck when Caroline throws the knife at her, and then she loses her gun when she gets tackled into the bedside table. Her hand finds the lamp by sheer coincidence, and she smashes it against what she thinks is Caroline’s head. The wood splinters satisfyingly in Jane’s hand, and she punches Caroline in the neck, quick and strong like she was taught. Her fist glances off and hits Caroline’s collarbone instead.

Caroline snarls, grabbing for Jane’s throat, and Jane scrambles to bring her knees up, kicking away with all her strength at the general shape she can make out against the dim light from the balcony windows.

She rolls over the bed and grabs her spare sidearm just as Caroline catches her breath.

“Don’t move. I have a gun aimed at your head.”

Caroline huffs a derisive laugh. “Same here.”

Jane thinks back to her final evaluation, but can’t remember anything over the thundering of her own heart. “Okay, I’m going to turn the lights on. For the record, I still have no idea why you decided to attack me.”

“Don’t play coy, Jane Bennet. You’re very good at it and it’s disgusting.”

Jane moves quietly to the door, “William and Gigi are right across from us. If a bullet goes through these walls they could be hurt. Just keep that in mind.”

She flicks the lights on in time for Caroline’s most unimpressed look. “It’s William and Gigi now, is it? You do work fast.”

“What do you want?” She asks, because none of the reasons Caroline can fight like a killer are comforting ones, and maybe she can still keep the Darcys safe if she stalls long enough. Jane hopes they have the sense to run out instead of coming to investigate.

“I want you to stay away from the Darcys, but failing that, I’ll settle for you and your employer dead.” That does bring Jane up short. She stops shuffling back towards the bed.

“You’re not making any sense.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Stop playing the innocent and tell me who you’re working for, Red.”

Jane and Caroline circle each other around opposite sides of the bed cautiously, never taking an eye off the other. “Not until you tell me where you learned to fight like that.”

A series of rapid footsteps head their way, and then Gigi is bursting into the room. Jane moves instinctively to shield Gigi from her and collides with Caroline at the foot of the bed, both of them falling in a tangle of limbs.

“Uh, not to interrupt anything here, but what are you two doing?” Gigi says. Caroline freezes with her teeth sunk into Jane’s arm. Jane keeps her in the chokehold, one hand firmly around the long braid tugging her head back, and tries to ignore Caroline’s elbow in her stomach.

Jane says, through gritted teeth, “Gigi, get your brother and get out, go to the nearest police station and ask for protection, she’s trained, go!”

Caroline twists her head, missing Jane’s nose by a scant half-inch, and says, “ _Of course_ I’m trained, I’m NSA!”

Jane lets go of her in shock. Suddenly able to breathe again, Caroline coughs into her hand, radiating well-bred indignation.

“I know the NSA trains their people to be crazy, but why did you attack me? I could have been a civilian!” Jane forgets to be calm, overwhelmed by so much in so little time. Somewhere behind Jane, Gigi sits down on the carpet and laughs so hard she starts crying.

Caroline sits up, massaging her throat with one hand. “Not with your observation skills you’re not. You always spot all the exits and potential threats, and you sweep any room you’re in at regular intervals.”

“Did you know about this?” Jane asks Gigi, nonplussed. Gigi, still laughing too hard by half, waves her hand in front of her face, the other hand clutching at her stomach.

“You’re not on any government files. I checked.” Caroline’s still sitting on Jane’s lap, glaring at her, as if Jane is to blame for her agency’s notorious secrecy protocols.

Jane clears her throat and looks between Gigi and Caroline, “I’m S.H.I.E.L.D., actually. We have our own system.”

Caroline narrows her eyes at Jane, apparently not disposed to believe her, “So what were you doing in China this past fall?”

“Oh, that. Um, I can’t tell you. Mostly observation?” Under Caroline’s close scrutiny, Jane can feel a blush creeping its way up her face.

Turning to Gigi, Caroline snaps, voice raspy. “Gigi, stop laughing. It was a perfectly natural mistake to make.”

She ignores them, having progressed to lying flat on the carpeted floor, chuckling to herself.

Caroline pushes herself off Jane with one fluid movement, and walks to where her bags are. “Obviously I don’t have my IDs with me right now, but Gigi can vouch for me, when she stops being silly.” She zips open Jane’s purse, and fishes out the S.H.I.E.L.D. badge from her wallet. Caroline throws them back into the purse with a look of disgust, and stalks out the room.

Jane stares at her canvas duffle bag, entirely convinced that when she wakes up in the morning, everything will make sense again.

From her vantage point on the floor, Gigi tries to offer her some comfort, sounding much too cheerful for four in the morning, “Don’t worry, she’s just annoyed she made a mistake. Caroline’s the best the NSA has, at least that’s what Bing says, and she takes it personally when she’s wrong.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Jane decides.

-

In the light of day, Jane thinks that Caroline Lee is maybe the best agent she has ever met. She’s charming, witty, and urbane, not a single hair out of place. There are no bruises on her skin, and her tightly fitted dress hides the wiry muscle and instead accentuates curves and a deceptive slimness.

Jane’s on her second coffee when she remembers something Caroline had said. “Gigi,” she turns slowly to her left, “Why did you call Caroline and ask her for help?”

Gigi looks a little sheepish, but also defiant at the same time. “I didn’t know? About you? When you said I could come with you, I thought, Jane’s way too nice to cut Wickham off at the knees. So I called the one person I knew who could stop him permanently, and not just this time.”

Jane looks at Caroline, who is smiling at Gigi fondly and delicately sipping her skim latte, and looks back at Gigi. Across from her, William Darcy looks like he is wishing for a quick death.

“Jane, I know Wickham, okay? He’s not going to stop, ever, not if he thinks he can get something from us, not if he has something he thinks is worth a lot. Caroline knows how to stop him.” “He’s scared of me”, Caroline says, with a smug little smile that goes sharp at the edges.

Gigi nods. “Yes. And I know I didn’t ask your permission or Lydia’s, but it was the only thing that would get him to stop.”

“Actually,” Jane says, setting her empty cup of coffee on the table. “Lydia says she doesn’t want anything to do with him, as long as the video is destroyed.”

Caroline stops studying her nails and smiles brilliantly at Gigi and William both. “Done.”

“What? You said you were going to confront him with us!” Gigi yelps, outraged.

“You don’t really think I was going to walk into an uncertain situation with an unknown agent at my back, did you?” Caroline raises an exquisitely shaped eyebrow at Gigi. “Besides, he’s easiest handled alone.”

William leans forward, eyes intent. “You can absolutely confirm that he does not possess a copy of the video and will not be committing similar acts in the future?”

“Stop fussing, William. It’s unbecoming.” Caroline wipes her mouth carefully and then gets up. “I leave the rest in your capable hands.”

Jane watches her walk away with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

-

 

Because William Darcy is William Darcy, Jane returns home with an armful of gourmet chocolate in her bag, and at least one box of macarons.

Jane hands the box to her mother, who coos at it lovingly before shooing her upstairs in increasingly unsubtle gestures. She finds both her sisters in Lydia’s room, Lizzie faceplanted on one side, one leg dangling over the edge, Lydia curled into a comma, facing Lizzie.

Lydia opens her eyes when Jane comes in, and then closes them again. She shoves a knee against Lizzie’s ribs until she rolls over into Lydia’s arms and blinks blearily up at Jane. “You are _not_ allowed to be this awake.” She says, and feebly pats the part of the bed she freed up. Jane smiles, and gingerly settles herself on the very edge, closing her eyes only when Lydia mutters to herself and throws an arm over the both of them.

-

Jane takes advantage of the weekend to root out all traces of Novelty Xposures, but to her surprise, there is nothing there. The url and servers are scrubbed so clean, they practically sparkle, and Lydia’s Youtube account is restored to its former semblance of order. She wonders if this is more of Caroline’s Good Samaritan self at work, and decides to let it go.

Instead, she, Lizzie, and Lydia make enough snickerdoodles to feed an army. She accompanies her sisters and Charlotte down to Carter’s, where she and Charlotte watch Lydia annihilate Lizzie at DDR, and they collapse in the den around midnight, finally, in a heap of giggles. They make enough noise that Mr. Bennet comes downstairs to check on them, though he soon wanders out again.

The next morning, before Lydia and Lizzie wake up, she and Charlotte enjoy a cup of coffee in the quiet of winter morning.

“You know, Bing’s tweets say he’s in Netherfield today.” Knowing Charlotte, Jane settles herself on the window seat. She will get to her point when she’s ready to make it.

“Mmm, really.” Jane hums around a sip of coffee.

Charlotte joins her at the window seat, sitting with her legs folded. “He says he’s taking care of some things for his and Caroline’s tax returns.”

Jane looks at Charlotte, and waits. Charlotte looks out the window, but the corner of her mouth is twitching upwards. “His number hasn’t changed.”

“You think it’s a good idea?” Jane feels apprehensive the moment she utters the words. Something about vocalizing her doubts makes them real, and she knows that in many things, she trusts Charlotte’s judgment better than her own.

“I think you and Bing have the potential to be at least as good as Lizzie and Darcy.” Charlotte says quietly. “If you build on what you have, and you’re lucky.”

Taking a quick sip to mask her reaction, Jane says, “Relationships aren’t puzzle pieces.” Charlotte turns to look at her, and smiles properly, warm and dependable as always.

“No, but we all have to start somewhere.”

They drink the rest of their coffees in silence.

-

In the end she chooses to walk straight over to Netherfield, instead of sending a text message or calling. Jane supposes she’s learning from her sisters too. It’s not a bad feeling.

She takes the quick way around, and knocks on the back door, where she knows Bing has a better chance of hearing her. Sure enough, he opens the door, and smiles shyly at her.

It’s probably no coincidence that Bing comes to visit the very weekend his sister has confirmed Jane’s not actually a threat. Jane tries not to think about it, and thanks him as he takes her coat. She asks for a cup of tea, and they sit across from each other at the breakfast bar. She studies Bing’s face, searching for clues, a way for her to make up her mind going forward.

His face is less open than it was, and Jane notes distantly that he has none of the fox-like charm Caroline exhibits.

She’s not sure how to begin, if she’s being perfectly honest with herself.

“Why did you leave?” Jane winces on the inside. That came out more plaintively than she would have liked.

Bing looks down into his cup, his voice hushed. “It’s like I said to Lizzie. I thought Caroline and Darcy knew better. I never stopped caring about you, but I didn’t think I could bear it if they were right. So I left.”

Jane expected to feel relief at the admission that he did love her, but the only feeling that washes over her is disappointment. “And once you found out about the videos, you didn’t even make an effort.” She tries to keep the accusation from her voice, but it’s clear Bing hears it anyway.

“Caroline said that you know. About her, I mean.” At first Jane is confused, and then remembers Gigi’s complete lack of surprise on Friday morning.

“Does this have something to do with the Darcy family?”

Bing looks at her through his eyelashes, shy again, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

He clears his throat. “Um, to begin with, I’m not actually a med student.” Somehow, this doesn’t surprise Jane. “Well, technically I am enrolled, but I was a programmer before that. I was – am – gifted, really gifted, with computers, and Caroline being who she is, it was kind of natural we fell into the same agency.”

“But then you met Darcy,” Jane guesses.

“It was undercover, actually, doing some work on the UC servers. I was a visiting student from Harvard, and I bumped into him at a poetry reading.”

“You like poetry?”

Bing wrinkles his nose sheepishly, “No, my cover did. Caroline’s ridiculously overprotective, so of course she did a lot of digging into Darcy’s background.” Jane can’t remember what happened to Darcy senior and his wife, but she guesses that it wasn’t an accident after all.

“I felt obligated, in a way. And he’s a really great guy, once you get to know him.”

“Then Caroline flew down, cornered Darcy in his favorite coffee shop, and dragged him around Berkeley until he agreed to transfer to Harvard with me. And the thing is, we try to stay out of his life, but we’re actually friends at the same time, even if Caroline’s cooking nearly killed us all at Thanksgiving… ” Jane used to find Bing’s tendency to ramble nervously adorable, but now she just wants straightforward answers. She feels impatient, wants to know _why_.

“So why didn’t Caroline know I was S.H.I.E.L.D.? If you’re that good, our servers shouldn’t be a challenge.”

Bing’s shoulders hunch defensively. “Actually, I quit after I graduated. I didn’t like how stressed I was all the time, and Caroline argued them down enough to let me attend med school. I still do the odd freelance job, but these days I barely touch a computer.”

“Right.” Right. Jane thinks that even the NSA wouldn’t turn its nose up at a doctor, if he had the training and experience of a full agent. “And does Caroline have feelings for Darcy?”

“I don’t understand?” Bing looks bewildered by the sudden change of topic.

“You have to admit she went to extraordinary lengths to separate my sister and your best friend.” Jane doesn’t like how petty she sounds, but it’s what she can focus on right now. “I get that she thought I was a threat, but how is my sister, the graduate student in communications, any kind of danger to William and Gigi?”

Her phone buzzes in her coat. Jane chooses to ignore it in favor of finally getting some answers.

“Oh.” Bing looks uncomfortable. “She thought it would be easier to get at us if your sister was close to Darcy.”

Jane doesn’t say anything, lets her silence convey her incredulity.

“I know it’s not logical, but Caroline’s like that. She’s been taking care of me our whole lives, and now that she’s added Darcy and Gigi, she can be a little extreme.”

“I suppose grilling Lizzie over the letter was a part of her protectiveness?”

He shifts on the bar stool. “She wanted to know if Darcy wrote about the plane crash. That’s all.”

Jane sighs and puts her cup down on the polished counter. “There were many other ways she could have handled this, Bing. Admit that Caroline disliked us from the beginning and did some not very nice things, and let’s leave it there.”

“Does that mean we can have a blank slate?” He looks at her, serious and hopeful at the same time.

“Bing, you know that my job is just as dangerous as Caroline’s, right?” He nods at her, once, eyes warm with affection, ready to accept her.

Jane looks away. “I can’t be in a relationship with someone who breaks up with me on someone else’s say-so.” She feels terrible, but it’s true. “I’m sorry. I can’t trust you to know your own mind.” Jane can’t bring herself to turn back to him, afraid of what she’ll see.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

Jane tries not to burst into tears right then and there, in the brightly lit breakfast bar.

She takes her coat and runs halfway home.

-

By the time she comes in the front door, Jane has composed herself again. When she opens the door to see Lydia, her mother, and her father all clustered outside the den, Jane opens her mouth, but Lydia turns around and shushes her impatiently.

She turns her back on them and begins toeing off her boots when she hears Darcy bid her sister farewell. She hovers, juggling her coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, when Darcy strides into the hall. He takes one look at her face, and says, “I’m sorry.”

“It was my decision in the end.” Jane tells him, surprised by how even her voice sounds.

“I wish you all the best, regardless. And Gigi sends her love.” Darcy towers over her, and yet he’s diffident, almost nervous in her presence.

Jane smiles up at him. “I don’t usually meddle, but if you ask her out to dinner again?” Darcy leans closer, eyes eager. Jane’s heart gives a queer sideways jump, elated and sad at the same time, but she smiles wider at William. “She’ll say yes.”

-

Lizzie leaves for San Francisco with a bounce in her step, and doesn’t even mind when Lydia breaks into vulgar singsong about Darcy. She grabs Lydia in a headlock and messes up her hair on purpose before darting out the door.

“It’s the strangest thing, Janey,” her mom says, “He’s such a nice young man, but I do believe they were flirting over app development, whatever that is.” 

Lydia complains when Jane packs up a week later, threatening to descend on L.A. at the first sign of boredom. Mary rolls her eyes and admonishes her about catching up with her schoolwork, while Lydia mouths _BOR-ING_ at Jane behind her back.

On Monday, Jane is shuffled into liaison duty, which means boarding the next red-eye for DC. Jane texts Gigi, apologetically bowing out of Wednesday night dinner with Fitz and Brandon.

Gigi promptly texts back. _Keep an eye out for my new videos. Domino’s auto-upload is awesome ;)_

Jane settles back into her business-class seat, silently blessing bureaucracy for its perks, and opens the preliminary report for the conference. Out the corner of her eye, a pair of long legs clad in well-tailored pants appear, and a Rebecca Minkhoff satchel drops on the seat next to her.

“Here,” Caroline says, “This is the list of expected speakers. I make no promises, but give me your top three panels, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Feeling a bit foolish and a bit giddy, Jane lifts her head and smiles back at her.

**Author's Note:**

> Brian the receptionist and Anne Elliot are both references to the fan twitter (https://twitter.com/MsAnneElliot), and definite participants in the weekly Pemberley LBD watchalongs, and subscribers to the Darcy/Lizzie newsletter.
> 
> I tried to deal with the storyline LBD chose in the way I thought was most considerate to Lydia, Lizzie, and the others, as characters but also as people we've grown to care about. There are, of course, choices I made that deviated from the central storyline, but I tried to cleave as closely as possible to the material we were given.
> 
> The title is from a Tennyson poem called Locksley Hall, and can be found here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174629.


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